Somewhere I Belong
by DeliaRyans
Summary: Oneshot. Cas comes to visit Dean in the middle of the night to try and deal with his own self. Set just after the events of 8x17 "Goodbye Stranger". One of my own headcanons which escalated into this. Slight Destiel. Don't like it, don't read it.


Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the Characters.

Author's Note: This is for Giuli (ja genau du, meine gute Bekannte) because she was always nagging around that I should write something for her, too. And because I still have to make up for the too late coming birthday present for her. So, here you go.

Song: Fix You – Coldplay (Yes, I know it's very sappy. Just like the story. Sorry about that.)

The door creaked slightly as it was pushed open and then closed again. A luminescent streak poured into the room. If Dean hadn't been fast asleep, he would have heard muffled footsteps and maybe, he would have even seen a dark figure crossing his room in the darkness and sitting down on the small chair right beside his bed. The figure, which looked like a man's, inhaled deeply and buried his face in his hands, like a human would do when in order to cope deep sorrow.

But the hunter didn't know about any of this. He was having one of his nightmares again, like he now had in almost every night ever since the Apocalypse business had started. And they still hadn't stopped, though the whole world was long ago past it.

The figure on the chair was ripped away from his thoughts and raised his head. The reason for this abrupt action was that Dean had grunted unexpectedly in his sleep, tossing and turning himself around in his bed. Immediately, the nightly visitor got off his chair and was at his side. He held him by his shoulder to steady him and keep him from hurting himself, his other hand rested soothingly at the side of the hunter's face.

"Dean," he tried the comfort the still twitching petrified poor soul in his arms. "Dean, it's okay. Listen to me. I -," he had to swallow hard to keep his voice from shaking. "I promise. It will be okay."

With a start, the hunter awoke from his bad dream and stared into the deep blue depths of his opponent's eyes. He instantly recognized the azure orbs of the angel who had gripped him and raised him from perdition. It seemed such a long time ago.

"Cas!" He looked at the angel in awe, still dizzy from the sleep and the images of his past dream stuck in his head. His heartbeat increased slightly as he realized how close their faces were to each other and felt the touch of Castiel's hand. He was suddenly fond of the darkness engulfing them both, as he felt himself blushing.

"Cas, what the hell –" But the angel just put him back to sleep through his still lasting touch. He could hardly bear his scrutiny, let alone giving Dean the opportunity to talking to him, to let him throw all those nasty things at his head, asking him what had happened and where he had been all this time. He just couldn't. Not because he didn't want to. He wanted nothing more desperately than to look into those wonderfully green emerald eyes again and see something other than the hatred and disgust in them flashing at him, something he would deserve for everything he'd done.

So instead, he chose to follow the elder Winchester into his dream. It was not the first time that he'd done that, it has just been a long time since. Just like he always used to sit on a park bench in some place and watch the world swirl around him. Humanity. It gave him comfort and helped him think more clearly. It helped him keep away everything else that might distract him from his task at distance.

As he landed in Dean's dream, he couldn't see anything at first. Then a world slowly began to materialize around him. He was in a room. There was a little boy beside him. He could almost smell the fear in the air. Suddenly there was fire everywhere, licking at the walls, emanating fearsome heat, but not quite touching them. Burning them but not burning them. Someone shouting words at him- no, at Dean. "Bring you brother outside!" Then, the room went up in a wisp of smoke; they were in a hospital room, where a motionless figure was lying on the ground, in a puddle of dark, sticky blood. The surroundings shifted. There were more of them. Motionless figures, some of them inside a big red pool, some still in the throes of death were moaning. He could feel them crashing down on him. If he hadn't known that this actually was a dream and not even his one but Dean's, he would have screamed. It was ghastly.

Then, the scene shifted again. He saw a distorted face of a man, whose face was distorted, vague but quite familiar to him. As he was trying to browse through his brain to identify the man, he began shouting at him – actually at Dean. Cas couldn't catch what he was yelling but he sensed that the memory made Dean's heart clench and somewhere in the depths of his consciousness, he felt the hunter tossing around in his bed again. He could see more images of the man flashing through. Covered in blood, laughing, fighting, eating burgers…

There was another man somewhere behind with longer hair touching the nape of his neck. Dean was extremely worried about him. The angel could see the man covered in a dark sticky liquid, coughing wildly, throwing a tissue in the bin. There was a red spot on it. Then a piece of rock with writing glyphs on it, which Castiel recognized as the tablet, and back to the second man again.

But soon, the first man came flashing back, his face more clearly now. He could see deep electric eyes, dark and tousled onyx hair, a beard. The man was wearing some kind of overcoat, a very dirty one and he was desperately clinging on to Dean's hand, though his fingers slowly and inevitably were slipping away. Outside of the dream, he felt a hand clenching his arm tightly. He could hear Dean taking gasping breaths rapidly in his sleep. Then, he uttered a word. No a name, his name.

"Cas!"

He pulled himself out of the dream like he had been scorched by fire. For a second, he just stared down at the sleeping man right in front of him, who now let go of his arm and dug his fingers into the sheets instead, and tried to get into his head what he had just observed. He moved backwards slowly, barely even noticing what he was doing, and hit the chair which fell over and clattered onto the ground.

Castiel flinched as he feared the sudden noise would make Dean wake again and he dreaded his reaction but the hunter just winced and turned around, quietly mumbling incomprehensible things and twitching in his sleep. For a few moments, the angel watched the hunter, his heart still racing inside his chest. Slowly, its beating settled and Castiel let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding until then. His shoulders sank as a part of the tension fled from them.

After a few more seconds of standing undecided in the room, he approached the hunter's bedside again and carefully sat down on the mattress, determined to not wake Dean again.

The angel watched his face, the righteous man he had patched together after his time in hell. All by himself. Though he hadn't even been fully trained. None of the other angels really had believed that he would make it back alive. But they had let him go because their father demanded it. It had been one of the last things he would demand for a long time.

Castiel watched the hunter stir and mumble something again before rolling over again and lying on his back to face the ceiling. The trench coated man could see the expressions on the Winchester's face.

This was something about humans, he had always been jealous of. Sleep. You could escape everything; your life, your problems or whatever for some time and just live in your own world. Your own mind. Nothing around you mattered anymore as long as your eyes were closed like shut doors. It made the angel feel calm, almost peaceful, to watch people dwell in their dreams, especially Dean's. It fascinated and concerned him at the same time to watch Dean sleeping. His dreams were often so full of blood and death and sadness because of everything he had seen and done. But yet there were also happy dreams, images of him and his brother, Sammy, laughing and drinking beer or just talking. Bobby, Garth, Ben and Lisa; all the people that meant something for him, and they all were at some other, safe place where they could be happy. Sometimes Dean even saw his dad and his mum in his dreams alive and together. He dreamed of himself living an apple-pie life, as he always called it in front of others. But Cas knew he really wished for his life to have been as normal as any other kid's and he could still have a family.

And all the same he went on. He stood his ground and also carried his brother at a few points because he couldn't go on like he did. He had refused destiny; tricked Michael, Zachariah and all the other angels; didn't do at all as other people wanted him to. And all the same, he saved the world.

This was what Castiel admired about him and about every other human being. Free will. The ability to choose their own ways, make their own mistakes, live their own life. Something angels weren't supposed to have. But he wanted to have that ability, too. He longed for it, craved for it now, with every sinew of his body. Everyone had always told him what to do, what to be, how to be all the time. He couldn't stand it. He felt like he could never accomplish his expectations. He was a failure, a black sheep. He didn't belong anywhere.

He raised his hand to his face in shock as he felt his eyes burning and something wet tumble down his cheek.

A tear.

He was crying.

An angel was crying. Angels weren't supposed to have emotions. Only very few had managed to have acquired them. But none of them were angels anymore. They had fallen, like Lucifer had fallen. For not being like their Father had wanted them to be. For being different.

He felt his heartbeat increase and a sob escaped his quivering pale lips.

At the sound, Dean was stirring next to him and Cas raised his head. The hunter gazed at him through half opened eyes and Cas already reached out his a finger to mojo him back to sleep, as Dean caught his hand and held it trapped.

"What are you doing?" the hunter asked, his voice raspy from sleep sleepily and looking at the angel in confusion. And then, Castiel noticed the look in his eyes. The kind of curtain, hanging before his vision, keeping his mind trapped from what he saw, from understanding what he really saw right before him. Dean thought that he would still be dreaming and that all of this was just happening inside of his dream.

"Cas, what is it? What's wrong?" Dean asked, and looked at him like a child who found an injured animal lying before him. And Castiel felt the tears running down his cheek but he couldn't stop them- wouldn't stop them, because it felt so good, so relieving, to let everything out. The grief, the tension, the burden of everything he'd done simply rolled off his shoulders. He felt strong arms wrapping themselves around him and just simply let go.

"Hey, it's ok. It's gonna be ok, Cas", he heard Dean whispering in his ear as he soothingly stroked his back and the angel clutched his shirt and dug his face into his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably into the fabric and quivering wildly but Dean didn't seem to care. They sat there like that for some a long time until Castiel calmed down by Dean's consoling soft voice and reluctantly let go of his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Dean", the angel mumbled and wiped away the wetness on his face.

"It's ok, I was about to throw that shirt into the machine anyways", he quipped but Cas cut him off.

"I'm not talking about your shirt, Dean. I'm talking about me. About everything I've done. I know I've messed up. I was a fool for bartering with Crowley, letting the Leviathans out, not talking to you and Sam, staying behind in Purgatory and leaving you two unguarded, taking you there in the first place. You prayed to me every night in the last days and I didn't even answer. I killed Samandriel and so many others of my brothers and sisters. There are times when I don't even feel like myself anymore, like someone else was controlling me and actions. I'm a disappointment. I failed you. I didn't…" He wanted to go on but this time it was Dean's turn to stop him.

"Shut up", he said and the angel raised his still red eyes in surprise to stare at Dean. "Shut up, you son of a bitch. Do you even know how many times you saved Sammy's and my ass, without even expecting a proper thank you from us?" Cas opened his mouth to reply something but Dean didn't let him. Instead he grabbed him by the collar and shook him.

"You saved me from hell and from Purgatory, you healed my brother from his time in the cage, you found a way to gank Dick and all his fucking Leviathan bitches, you fought at the civil war in heaven and still found the time to come down when we really needed you and all I did was blaming you for when you were not being there. Damn, you even stood up against god, your own father, and his freaking prophecy about Michael and Lucifer! And I left you alone when you really needed me. I wasn't there when you needed someone to talk to, someone to rely on. I always said, I would be there for you but when I should have been, I wasn't." Dean's grip at Castiel's collar intensified and the angel could see tears, actually tears building up in the hunter's eyes. He felt intimidated but intrigued at the same time by the sight of it and he couldn't avert his eyes from those eternally green ones, so crammed full with emotions.

"Dean", Castiel tried to console him but Dean wouldn't let him.

"I was always just thinking about my brother and myself but I should've thought about you, too. Everything that happened, I could have prevented it somehow and I should have! So don't you dare, don't you ever dare saying again that you failed me!" He shouted those last words right in Castiel's face. The tears were now streaking down the Winchester's face but he didn't break the stare. Finally, he loosened his grip on Castiel's askew tie and wiped the wetness away with one hand, looking away.

There was silence in the room.

"I believed I was doing the right thing. I thought I would make everything alright. But now I realized, I just want to have someone who likes me for what I am", Castiel whispered after a couple of minutes, cutting across a loaded silence.

"And I found that someone, before I even knew, I was looking." Castiel didn't know why he had said that and almost regretted it as Dean raised his head with an undefinable look on his face and stared into those piercing blue eyes. He wasn't sure if he had heard right as the angel's voice had been a mere breathe. Latter lowered his head, ashamed of what he had let slip previously, of upsetting Dean with his problems.

"Dammit, Cas", Dean murmured, looking away. The angel didn't know what to say, so he stayed quiet.

"It is late", Castiel said as he noted Dean suppressing a yawn and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It said 2:24AM. "I know, I shouldn't have come here. I should go and leave you to sleep." He attempted to stand up but found Dean capturing his sleeve to hold him back.

"No!" he said with a look in his eyes, which Castiel couldn't quite classify. "Please stay."

And Castiel did.

He laid down on the bed beside Dean who draped the blanket over both of them. He zapped his shoes and his street clothes beside the bed and made himself comfortable at Dean's side who wrapped his arms around him again.

After some time, he huddled himself closer and put his head against Dean's collarbone so that the hunter could place his chin on top of the angel. Castiel could hear his heart beating and the steady rhythm comforted him.

"Dean?" he said into the silence after a few minutes.

"Hm?" Dean chuntered. Apparently he was about to fall asleep.

"Thank you" he said quietly and received a short squeeze as reply.

"You know"; Castiel started, his voice nothing more than a whisper but he didn't know how to go on. He didn't know how he could put what he had been experiencing – what he still was experiencing – into proper and fitting words. He thought about what had happened only three days ago, in a cave buried deep under the ground. How he nearly killed the man who was now lying with his arms wrapped around Castiel's shoulders. Suddenly he knew what he had to say.

"I need you too, Dean." he susurrated. He expected Dean to freak out now, to push him away again, like he always did, a part of him hoped that he would be glad to hear those words but instead there was only quietness.

After a while, he felt Dean's breathe evening out as the hunter began to snore slightly.

Castiel raised his head to look at Dean and could not suppress a small smile at the sight of Dean's face. In his now dreamless sleep, the hunter looked calm, almost peaceful. And before he even knew what he was doing, the angle had raised his hand to Dean's face to softly ease away the worry lines around his eyes. He drew back his hand under the covers again and after a short moment of hesitation he carefully settled his arms around the hunter's waist. A contend sigh escaped his lips and he rested his forehead against Dean's chest again.

…

As Dean awoke the next morning, it took him a while before his brains finally sputtered awake. He remembered dreaming a quite confusing dream. He had forgotten most of it, especially the end, which was very blurry, but he remembered that Cas had been in it. They had talked. Without knowing what he was doing, he tensed his arms and felt them tighten around a soft figure.

Immediately, he shot up, eyes wide and adrenalin flooding through his system. The bright light, which was streaming from the window, stung in his eyes. He squinted for a moment, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When he could finally see what he was holding, he could almost taste the disappointment on his tongue but he swallowed it within a moment. Instead, he flung the pillow out of his arms so that it first hit the wall with a muffled noise and then fell to the floor, right beside the which chair still stood at its usual place.

He rolled onto his back with a growl and stared at the ceiling for some time. Then, slowly he sat up and pushed his legs out from beneath the blanket and placed them on the wood parquet. He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. After a moment, he got up, put on some clothes for the day and went first to the bathroom and then to the kitchen where he prepared Sammy and himself some breakfast. His brother came down ten minutes late, still looking dizzy from the sleep and shadows under his eyes. Dean knew, he was struggling with the burden of the trials but he didn't say anything.

Later that day, he had an argument with Sam. They had been hunting two demons and Sam had insisted on watching Dean's back, even though latter had wanted to do it alone for he knew about Sam's current physical state. But Sam had insisted that he was perfectly fine and that, even if not, this was not the first time one of them had fought while injured. So Dean had agreed.

Of course, it hadn't worked out as they had planned it. They were still in hiding to work out the best way to catch the demons by surprise, and gain themselves valuable time, when Sam had suddenly thrown a coughing fit again. The demons had heard them but fortunately, Dean had been able to bury the demon knife in the first one's chest before he could get to Sam but the second one knocked him to the ground. The impact had made Dean let go off the knife which had scattered away from him as his back collided with the cold hard ground. The demon had beaten Dean and hissed at him angry menacing comments. Understandably, the demon was furious as Dean had just killed that his partner. Just as the punches really began to hurt, Sam who had obviously recovered had pulled Dean's tormenter off him and ganked him.

As they walked back to the Impala after that, Dean was angry at Sammy for blowing up their cover with his stupid coughing.

"Well, what do you suppose I should have done then, Dean? Not give in to an involuntary human trait?"

"I want you to be honest with me the next time. I want you to tell me about what is happening, if something is wrong." They had reached the Impala and Dean turned to face his brother across the hood, propping his hands on it.

"Listen Sammy, this is not just about the coughing. I have to be able to trust you on this. I need someone to watch my back, ok? I need you to-"

"Yeah, alright, ok Dean. I understand" Sam cut him off but Dean was not listening.

He had stopped dead at his own last sentence. It reminded him of the crypt where Castiel had nearly killed him. Of what Dean had told him before he went off with the tablet. Simply of _Cas._ And then the dream came back to his mind. The dream of his previous night. The angel had paid him a visit and they had talked. Castiel had cried. Dean couldn't remember what they had said to each other, exactly. Just that Castiel had talked about himself regretting his choices in his apparently never ending life. But he remembered something that had happened right at the end of the peculiar dream. Something Cas had told him. "_I need you too_."

Could it be that maybe – and somehow Dean just couldn't get rid of the thought, of that tiny piece of hope – this hadn't been a dream at all? Maybe his subconscious mind hadn't just made up this piece of comfort for his mind. Maybe it _really_ _had been Cas_. Maybe the angel really had cried, clutching at his shirt, telling Dean about himself and his regret.

"Hey, is everything alright with you?" His brother's concerned voice ripped him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. I'm ok. Now get in the damn car already. I still wanna get a shower today before dropping into bed." He watched Sam casting him a glance that looked suspiciously like his famous 'bitch face' before opening the driver's door and falling into his seat himself.

That evening, Dean was sitting at the edge if his bed again and thinking about his dream, hoping that maybe hadn't been a dream after all. He decided to talk to Cas again – he still refused to call it praying – and hoped that the angel could and would still hear him, even after all the mess they had made. But this time, he just had one sentence forming itself inside of his head.

"Cas, please come home again."

Review much appreciated!

Especially because it's the first story, I plucked up enough courage to publish. Hope you like it.


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